


Slytherin Sacramentum

by starknstars



Series: Fanfiction With Charlie. [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Wizarding World - Fandom, hogwarts - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Boys In Love, Drinking Games, Evil Albus Dumbledore, Fake Character Death, Good Slytherins, M/M, Missing Persons, Multi, Original Character(s), Other, POV Alternating, Ravenclaw, Slytherin, Slytherins Being Slytherins, Stays as close to canon as possible, but the other characters believe in it, dumbledore funeral, lightning tower
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-14 08:34:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19269592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starknstars/pseuds/starknstars
Summary: Sacramentum?" "It's Latin for sanctuary. That's what you are to me, Owain, you're sanctuary." As Owain and Matty finally confess their feelings for each other, it's gearing up to be the end of a fantastic sixth year at Hogwarts for their rag-tag group of Slytherin friends. However, not all is as well as it seems. There are dark times ahead for those in the wizarding world, and just as they expect to face them together, a tragic accident tears the two boys apart...





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Exists in the same universe as Amicita!

OWAIN

Owain hated parties, usually. The chaotic dancing, the loud music, the people trying to shout at each other over the loud music… It just wasn't his scene. Not that he had a 'scene’ anyway - well, not unless you counted the library, but he was pretty sure that you couldn't count the library. So there he was, surrounded by various people that he either didn't know or didn't want to know, with a fizzing concoction of alcohol in one hand whilst he used the other to aimlessly pluck popcorn from a bowl on the side. He watched absentmindedly as a pretty East Asian girl took three shots in quick succession, earning herself a round of applause from the onlookers in the room. As she flicked her long, dark hair back, she caught Owain’s eye and winked. Embarrassed that he hadn't clapped along with everyone else, he turned around to stare out of the kitchen window.

 

'Why are you here?’ a sneering voice echoed through his mind. He held his drink tighter and glanced over his shoulder. No one was stood by him. A hot prickle ran up the back of his neck and without thinking he reached back and rubbed at it, as if he could stop the panicking sensation by physical force. Not now, he thought desperately, please not now. He studied his reflection in the window, look at his freshly cut and styled hair, and the shirt and bowtie his older sister, Rhiannon, had picked out for him. He made himself take a nervous sip of his drink, then cracked an awkward grin. He could make himself look like he belonged, right? Right. Because he did. Belong, that is. He did belong.

 

“Jonesie! Looking as cracking as ever!” A thick Scottish accent boomed across the room. Owain jumped, almost sloshing his drink down himself.

“Fuck you, Jon”, he laughed and turned around as his fellow dorm mate made his way across the room to him. Jon clapped him firmly on the back,

“Ah! Don't wish you could?” He winked, then looked about the room with a sigh, “speaking of, slim pickings tonight, mate.”

“Or no pickings,” Owain replied glumly, “at least for me. Volkov is in the garden with the Dubois girl and the false Gryffindor, you know.”

Something flashed across Jon’s expression, through it didn't falter.

“... I’ll be back,” he gave Owain another cheeky wink, before disappearing off to find Sebastian. And probably have some decent sex. Owain tried not to envy him, after all, there was better than Volkov…

 

In a sudden surge of adrenaline, Owain forced himself to down the last of his drink and shuffle through the swarm of people in the kitchen. Where he could, he tried to avoid touching anyone. Everyone he passed smelled of testosterone and alcohol; he didn’t want that smell clinging to him for the rest of the night. Not when he was going to find Matty and tell him once and for all that he liked him. Maybe. Or maybe he’d just find Rhiannon.

 

“Owain!” another drunken cheer interrupted him as he pushed his way out of the kitchen and into the hall. There, his sister’s best friend Daya was stood, with a drink in each hand. Beside her was an older guy, easily 6’2, who was glaring at him. Realising he had potentially interrupted a moment, Owain blushed and hastily took the drink Daya was offering him.  
“Cheers, Daya,” he tried to relax, taking a long glup from his cup, “have you seen Rhiannon?”

Daya frowned.  
“Talking to some twat in the lounge,” she mumbled, waving a glittering hand towards the end of the hall, “tell her I miss her!”

“Will do, Daya,” Owain reassured her with an awkward pat on the back, and made his way down the corridor.

 

MATTY

 

Matty sat on his father’s kitchen counter holding his third or fourth drink. He was enjoying laughing at Kit and Lyanna who were mixing up a deadly drink that would surely kill him, he liked days like this where he felt he could let loose and his nerves didn’t get the best of him. Drinking gave him this surging, fiery, feeling in his belly, like he could take over the world if he put his mind to it. He supposed this is what confidence felt like; not like he would know, but he was sure as hell good at hiding it. Jon came brisling out the hallway door and into the kitchen (it was far too full of people, but Matty didn’t mind) he then gave Matty a thumbs up and a wink as he went outside where laughing of a sadly familiar person could be heard. Sebastian Volkov. He only invited him for Jon. Lyanna turned to look at who Matty was giving a hopeless frown, and her face matched his, though there was a hint of sadness too.

 

“Ah ha!” Kit cheered, holding up a drink that turned from a toxic green to an infectious yellow colour and bubbled like it was alive. When he noticed the other two faces, he knew immediately who it was about. In fact he nicknamed the expression as the Russian stare due to how often the friendship group made it.

“Truly no hope for our Jon,” he tutted but laughed, “When will he learn the price of a good lay doesn't mean shagging Slytherins’ biggest twat.”

“Bigger than Malfoy?”  Matty laughed shaking his head, Sebastian was bad but I mean surely not ‘Death-eaters son’ bad.

“Ugh, don’t remind me of him. I already have to put up with him too much back at Hogwarts.” Kit scrunched his nose up in displeasure at the reminder of their unwanted roommate.

“Let’s drink to forget!” Lyanna chimed in, giving the two boys a shark like grin, Not that Kit would willingly admit this but Lyanna was a unstoppable force at anything she put her mind too, even on the Quidditch pitch watching her effortlessly score for Ravenclaw made even the die hard fans of opposing teams admire her. Kit was also probably regretting agreeing to a round of toxic shots with her.

The three of them poured the beverage they made earlier into separate cups and held their noses as they gulped it down, cringing at the bitter taste. Lyanna finished first, her eyes watering, then Kit finished, no longer looking so smug about his creation, and finally, Matty who was left in pain wondering why he ever agreed to do anything Kit tells him too.

 

“Nothing like a good ol’ mixture of magic and muggle alcohol to get you fucked.” Kit muttered while looking at the bottom of his now empty cup. Everytime Matty gulped down one of them he was reminded of why you don’t mix muggle and magic things but here he is, wobbling his way off the kitchen counter, the alcohol already working it’s magic as he steadied himself on his two friends and said,

“I need to find Owain.”

Lyanna and Kit looked at each other and sighed like it was a common occurance of a drunk Matty, they started to bicker.

“Maybe it will be good for them?” Kit shrugged.

“They’ll be embarrassed dorks all around Hogwarts.” Lyanna added, with a raised eyebrow.

“Or happily romantic dorks!” he said with a smirk.

“Well you’re getting the blame!” Lyanna stopped trying to argue against it.

“I’ll surely take the title of the world's best wingman.” Kit turned to Matty who was looking at the two smilingly blissfully, he loved his friends.

“Go and find Owain, Matty, and for Merlin's sake tell him how you feel!”

 

Matty didn’t give him a reply, just turned and confidently strode towards the living room where he knew Owain would be camping out. When he reached the open doorway and got his first glimpse of him he felt a huge surge of affection fluttering in his stomach. He could just walk up to him right now and tell him. He could, watch him do it. He was going to tell him, tonight, in his father’s living room. In front of all those people. But what if he rejected him? What if he just says yes because of the crowd? Fuck. Matty could feel his throat closing up, the affection turing to anxiety until his body couldn’t go any further, it just wanted to flee. He was never a brave person; do you see him sporting red robes? With a regretful glance he rushed towards the stairs where he shared a knowing look with Rhiannon, who was lingering by with Ahar Das and all but rushed away into the comfort of his bed sheets, to live out his panic.

 

OWAIN

 

Once again Owain pulled himself past snogging couples, people dancing dangerously on the stairs and through to the living room. In here, at least, it was a lot more quiet. Once glance around the room and he realised that that was probably because most of the people in the room were Ravenclaws. Figures.

 

“Hey,” Rhiannon smiled as Owain slumped down next to her, before turning back to Ahar Das, whom she was clearly in deep conversation with. They appeared to be the only sober people in the whole house, discussing the practical use of magic and whether or not it was acceptable to use magic for menial tasks, like cooking and cleaning. Ordinarily Owain would have joined in (Das had such fascinating insight of squib perspectives on things, because of his brother Saamir) but tonight his mind was preoccupied… He'd already been here half an hour, and he still hadn't seen Matty, and despite being sat in a more relaxed environment, his palms were growing increasingly clammy and his heart had begun to speed up.

 

Rhiannon took his hand in her own,

“Owain?” She raised an eyebrow to him, her own way of asking him if he was okay.

“Yeah?” He replied, trying to ignore the curious look that Das was giving him.

“Go and find Matty,” his sister told him firmly. He opened his mouth to excuse himself from doing as she said, but she put her hand up to stop him.

“You’re stalling, kid, now go,” she waved him away, “you promised you were going to tell him tonight, did you not?”

“I did,” Owain replied glumly.

“Then get a move on!”

 

As Owain got to his feet, he raised an eyebrow at his sister,

“Daya wants you, by the way.”

Rhiannon rolled her eyes, but smiled.

“I’ll find her. Go!”

 

Taking a deep breath, Owain stepped back out into the hallway, narrowly dodging a quaffle that had been flung over his head.

“Sorry!” A chorus of voices cheered as a group of Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs thundered past him and out into the front garden. For the second time that night Owain wished that Matty wasn't such an all-round well liked guy. He was friends with almost everyone, or at least, everyone who wasn't popular or an asshole. It made house parties an anxiety inducing nightmare; he knew basically no one, and no one knew who he was either. To everyone but his close inner circle of friends, he was just Rhiannon's little brother. Not that he minded it much. So long as he mattered to Matty.

He put his hand on the staircase bannister, downed the last of his drink, and took a step up.

 

TOGETHER

 

“There we go,” Matty smiled to himself, watering the last plant on his shelf. He found himself drunkenly patting it, before wiping the remaining post-panic sweat off his forehead. Music thumped through the floorboards of his bedroom. It was his party, and he was having a good time… But he didn’t want to go back downstairs just yet. Instead, he sloped over to his bed and sat down on it heavily. He’d not even seen Owain all night; if Jon hadn’t mentioned they had arrived together along with Rhiannon, Matty wouldn’t even know that he was here. That was Owain all over - hiding in corners, tucking himself away as much as possible. On any other occasion, Matty would seek him out. But not right now. Right now, he wanted to rest…

A loud crash came from the hallway, followed by a chorus of Welsh swears. Matty sat upright - he had fallen asleep against the wall - only to watch Owain stumble through it.  
“Matty?” Owain called out loudly, laughing as he pulled himself back up with the support of the door. Despite his wish for calm, Matty felt his lips stretch into a grin before he could help it.  
“Are you alright, mate?” he asked, laughing too as Owain half-walked, half-fell towards the bed. Both boys were cracking up by the time Owain had sat beside him, alcohol alleviating their initial anxieties. Without thinking it over Owain slipped his hand into Matty’s. The action made them both blush, but Matty gave his palm a soft but sure squeeze.Owain returned it.

 

Without letting go of one another, they lay back on the bed, the thump thump thump of the music washing over them. Perhaps if they had been any other teenagers, left alone in a bedroom, something more would have happened. Instead, they only talked.  
“I can’t believe this year’s almost over,” Owain murmured, running his fingertips along the inside of Matty’s arm.  
“I can’t believe we’re almost in our seventh year, our last year” Matty replied, turning his face ever so slowly to look at the boy he had known he loved for at least three of the six years they had been dorm mates together.  
“Yeah,” Owain blinked, before looking back at Matty, then laughing again, “okay, okay… I’m drunk.”  
Matty grinned at him, raising a playful eyebrow, “yeah? Me too.”  
They cracked up again, their noses brushing as they folded into each other. After they had calmed down, Owain took Matty’s other hand.  
“Matty?” he asked.  
“I love you,” Matty blurted out suddenly. They stared at each other.  
“No, Matty, I,” Owain took a deep breath in, “I… love you.”  
“Me too. You. I love you too,” Matty nodded, his vision swirling even though he was sure he could see Owain clear as day.  
“No, Matty… I love you like this,” Owain said. And he kissed him, soft as you like, on the lips. Another quiet moment passed between them.  
“I love you like this too,” Matty replied slowly, before bringing his hands up to Owain’s face and kissing him right back. Passionately, brightly, carefully, surely, he kissed him.

“You taste like mouth,” Owain mumbled against Matty’s lips, and both the boys laughed. They laid back on Matty’s unmade bed and kissed again, and again.  
“You taste like firewhiskey,” Matty returned, blush still bright on his cheeks. Owain shrugged clumsily, pushing up onto an ebow.  
“Is that bad?” he asked with a smile. Matty shook his head and the two embraced again, the thudding of the music second only to the beating of their hearts. After a while they drew apart, and Owain still had enough whiskey in his system to cuddle into Matty without embarrassment. They lay in each other’s arms, Owain tucked neatly under Matty’s chin, smiling to themselves.  
“Six years, the whole time hoping… I didn’t even know you were gay!” Matty shook his head and Owain shrugged.  
“I’m not gay, I’m bi - I think,” Owain shrugged, kissing Matty on the cheek, “you could’ve asked!”  
“I know… But we’ve always told each other things…” Matty thought about his words, careful even now their shared secret was out, “... When we’re ready.”

“Are we ready?” Owain looked up at Matty, suddenly anxious himself. Matty sensed his apprehension and once again kissed Owain, this time firmly. Like a promise.  
“I am,” he nodded, his curls bouncing about his head. Owain’s face split into a grin.  
“Me too!” he almost cheered. They sat up, fingers locked together, truly seeing each other’s feelings for the first time.

“Owain!” a voice - Rhiannon - shouted up the stairs. The two boys sprung apart, their few moments of privacy interrupted.

“Yeah?” Owain called back, trying to keep the embarrassment out of his voice.  
“Grandpa said to be back by midnight, we need to go!” she warned. Both boys looked to the clock. It was quarter to already; they had fifteen minutes.  
“I’ll be right down!” Owain said. Before Matty could say anything, Owain threw his arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.  
“I don’t want you to go, not now, not after all this,” Matty mumbled against Owain’s head. His hand slipped into Owain’s and he rubbed his thumb against the inside of the shorter boy’s palm.  
“I know,” Owain chuckled, “me neither, but I can’t keep Rhiannon. Or Grandpa.”  
“But we’ll talk about this, right?” Matty bumped his forehead lightly against Owain’s. The stolen intimacies were addictive, and both of them were on an absolute high.  
“Of course,” Owain took Matty’s face in his hands, before kissing him a final time, “we don’t have to pretend, not anymore. I’m yours, now, if you’ll be mine.”  
“How could I say no to such a fine Welsh accent?” Matty attempted a smirk, which turned goofy as Owain’s eyes lit up. They left the room, holding hands, and meandered down the stairs.

Jon wolf-whistled as they reached the bottom step, earning a punch on the arm from Owain. Kit, on the other hand, looked as though he’d finally discovered the answer to a confusing, yet obvious once you thought about it riddle. Lyanna gave Matty a knowing wink and stepped aside as the two boys faced Rhiannon. Her lips quirked a half smile.  
“Owain Jones,” she shook her head at her younger brother in fake disapproval, “whatever am I going to do with you?”  
Too embarrassed to kiss again in front of so many others, Matty and Owain shared a quick hug before Owain said goodbye to the rest of the friends that had gathered around the fireplace. Both the Jones siblings took a fistful of floo powder, Rhiannon stepping forwards first.  
“Ruberry Cottage!” and she was gone. Owain followed suit.  
“See you Monday!” he called to his friends, but his eyes were only for Matty. They shared a knowing look.  
“See you Monday,” Matty nodded, batting Jon away as he attempted to ruffle his hair.  
“Ruberry Cottage!” Owain cheered, and the floo fire pulled him away, from what he’d always credit as the best night of his life.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy!!
> 
> check out quotev!!

OWAIN

For the entire day Sunday, all Owain could think of was Matty. Not that that was a new thing - Owain was almost always thinking of Matty - but especially so that day. Firewhiskey had made him far more confident than he had ever been before in his life, and it had paid off. Matty. Matty’s curls between his fingers. Matty’s lips fumbling against his own. The thought made him touch a finger to his mouth each time. When Owain lay in bed that night, buzzing with excitement at the thought of seeing Matty in the morning, he realised he had spent so much of his day smiling his face actually ached. Eventually, his eyes flickered shut and he fell asleep, lulled and dreaming of the next morning.

He had not expected, a short two hours later, to be shaken awake. An acrid smell hung in the air and he realised as he rubbed his eyes, it wasn’t his sleepiness that clouded his vision. Smoke, thick, black smoke was suffocating him, blinding everywhere he looked. Then, Rhiannon was in his face, her hands gripping his shoulders so tightly Owain could already feel the bruise marks her fingertips would leave forming.

“Grandad,” he choked out, his brain swarming with a hundred or more awful images.

Rhiannon hushed him, a finger pressed to her lips, and whispered, “He’s outside, he just set up an emergency portkey. Where’s your wand?”

Without giving him a chance to answer, Rhiannon gave a swift, slightly over-complicated wave of her wand in his direction. Instantly he felt alleviated from the pressure on his throat, and took a deep and sure breath. Whatever spell she cast had cleared his lungs, allowing him to breathe freely. Owain tried to gather his thoughts amidst the fog in his half-asleep, half-panicking brain. He opened the top draw of his bedside table and snatched up his wand, casting a dull ‘lumous’. Then, the family photo album which held the only pictures of his father and paternal grandparents, a silver chain which held his father’s wedding ring, and finally, Grandad’s old sketchbook. Of everything in the room, these items were of the most importance to him. If his house, as it seemed, was on fire… Well, there wasn’t a chance in hell he was going to leave them behind.

“Owain, come on!” Rhiannon demanded, “I have your things already. Keep silent, and follow me.” 

 

Too confused to question his sister, Owain followed her out the door. Next to the door hung a photo frame, one of four in the room. A photograph of himself, Matty, Jon, Kit and Lyanna. The four boys were lifting Lyanna above their heads, her head tossed back and laughing, as they carried her towards the pond in Kit’s garden. A joke, that they were going to chuck her in, for being the only one of them who wasn’t a Slytherin, and the only girl. Fast as he could Owain snatched the photo frame off the wall, tearing the wallpaper as he did. He quickly snatched his school satchel from where it hung on his bedroom door, stuffed the items he had collected inside, then hurried down the corridor after Rhiannon.

 

Owain swung the strap over his shoulder, wanting to keep his hands free. The further they progressed down the corridor the hotter the air grew. Sweat was beginning to crawl down the sides of Owain’s face, his palms damp. He wiped them on his pyjama bottoms.

“Shit,” Rhiannon swore, and Owain could see why. They leaned over the landing railing to the full blaze of the fire, licking it’s way up the stairs. At the moment, it was only on the third step, but both of the Jones siblings knew that it was only a matter of time before the flames claimed the walls and the floor beneath them.

Whirling around to face her brother, Rhiannon pointed to the small window at the end of the hall.

“Are you crazy? We’ll break our legs, or worse!” Owain exclaimed, throwing his arms out to stop Rhiannon from advancing towards the window. She gave him a look of despair.

“Think with your wand, for Merlin’s sake!” and she grabbed his arm, tugging him back down the hall, past their bedroom doors. Outside, Owain could hear Grandad shouting their names. In the distance, sirens.

“Coming, Taid!” Owain called. Without a moment’s hesitation Rhiannon picked up the marble vase sat on the window sill, took three steps back, and launched it at the window. As the glass shattered Owain felt a shard shoot past him, missing his eye but nicking just above it. The metallic taste of blood hit his lips as it began to trickle from the cut and down his face. If Rhiannon noticed, she didn’t say anything. Using a balled up scarf a barrier protecting her skin, she punched out the remaining glass from the window and pulled herself through it.

 

One hand clutched the window frame, the other reached back through it for her brother, “Come on, Owain,” she urged him again. Shaking, he put one foot on the ledge and pulled himself through it, letting Rhiannon guide his hand to a good hold on the gutter. Smoke followed them out to the open air. Looking down, he could see the fire had burst out of the kitchen and living room windows. Though the cottage was made of stone, he could see the fire was climbing the ivy in sure leaps. They didn’t have much time.

“Levi-corpus!” Grandad, at the far end of the long garden, was shouting to them in suggestion. In his hand he grasped an old trowel. The portkey, probably. 

 

“Ready?” Rhiannon asked, reaching for Owain’s free hand with her own. He took it.

“Jump!” He cried. The two fell, Owain’s stomach turning over and over inside of him, but it couldn’t have lasted more than a few seconds.

“Levi-corpus!” Rhiannon bellowed and for the last two metres, they floated safely to their feet. As they hit the ground the siblings sprinted for their Grandad. Owain’s hand flew to his chest, in horror, realising her had left his one other most important possession behind. His binder.

 

Seeing his distress, Grandad put a hand on Owain’s shoulder,

“What’s wrong, my son?” he asked, eyes wide, “are you hurt?”

“My binder,” Owain struggled out. He felt a hot flush of embarrassment as he folded his arms over his chest, hiding the area from view. A part of him felt guilty that that was his primary concern, now that they were all relatively safe. Neither Grandad or Rhiannon made him feel bad for it.

“Here,” Rhiannon said, pulling off her oversized jumper and pulling it over Owain’s head. The stench of smoke clung to it, but Owain was grateful for the protection. In nothing but her thin nightdress, now, Rhiannon walked a little closer to the house.

“Accio binder!” She called. Out of the window came flying two bundles of fabric - one was on fire, but the other seemed untouched. Owain picked up the latter whilst Grandad stomped out the flames of the former. At least he’d have this, once he had the chance to change.

Sensing his discomfort, Rhiannon pulled her brother into a one-armed hug, whispering in his ear,

 

“It’s alright, there’s another in your bag. Sorry, I didn’t think of it before.”

What did she mean, his bag? Why would she think of anything other than waking him and Grandad up, and getting them out of there?

 

When Owain opened his mouth to protest, Grandad clamped his hand down over it, pressing his finger to his lips. There came a large cracking sound. Horrorstruck, the Jones family watched as the thatched roof of their Ruberry Cottage caved in on itself. Grandad’s eyes mirrored the flames they stood watching, the tears rolling down his cheeks illuminated orange. All Owain could think to do was to put an arm around him, as he watched the home he had known and loved for ten years fall entirely apart.

Suddenly, the trowel began to shake.

“Quick!” Owain called to Rhiannon, and they both gripped the rusty metal of the tool, as Grandad still had the handle. He noticed that Rhiannon’s empty hand held the handles of two bags, and that Grandad held a third. How had either of them had time to pack bags in all that chaos? Perhaps they had woken Owain before, and he had fallen back asleep whilst they prepared to leave and the fire grew. But why were they leaving now? Surely they were best off waiting until the fire service showed up. In fact, the sirens were far louder now. They must be coming down the country lane that led to the cottage now -

“Owain, no!” His sister shrieked as he let go of the trowel. Fear shot through him - he’d never seen Rhiannon looking so hysterical. His hand returned to the juddering trowel and before he could blink, he had been ripped away into nothing but thin air.

MATTY

Despite being sixteen, Matty still took comfort in his father coming with him to platform 9 ¾, He scanned the area, looking for a certain welsh wizard, and in doing so shared a glance at his father who was dressed so utterly muggle-esque it filled him with a rush of affection, especially since it reminded him of Owain. Since the party, Matty hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it, it felt like a dream, he supposed it would do when you’ve been pining for someone since fourth year.  

 

They were walking at a moderate pace to the platform, and they were respectively early, just as they always were, his father, busy chatting away to him about some recent Helen Briggs article - a muggle women, who was, like them, a plant-ethusatised. Matty couldn’t focus, instead opting to hum and murmur short replies, a stark contrast to how usually he’d offer up his own excitement to what she had discovered but his brain was so distracted, he felt like it was going ninety miles per hour, it was only a matter of minutes before he’d be face to face with Owain again, he brushed his sweaty palms against his trouser pants, willing his nerves away. Realistically, Matty knew they would be fine, in fact more than fine if the kiss was anything to go off, and believe him, it was. It’s just his anxiety playing up, once again making him stuck in his head. He swallowed it down. Matty knew, if everything else in the world came crashing down around him, he and Owain would always be together as lovers or best friends, or both and no anxiety would change that.

 

With all his worry, Matty hadn’t realised, they’d came to a stop, his father was watching him with a concerned look, and they were causing a que to form and if he didn’t hurry, they’d draw unwarranted attention to the entrance.

 

“Matty, are you sure everything is okay? You’ve been quiet today.” his dad asked, tone matching his concerned expression.

 

“I’m fine, just you know nervous, a new school term and all.” 

 

He wiped his hands on his trousers again, and let out a small sigh when instead of replying, his father raised an all too knowing eyebrow. Matty never failed to wonder how parents just seemed to know things, merlin or god simply blessing them with very inconvenient superpowers, Matty wished he could lie and avoid the talk. 

 

Matty hadn’t told his father about the kiss, not out of shame nor because he didn’t think his father would be accepting, but out of sheer embarrassment of his father, an awkward man, sitting him down and giving him the talk, the same one they’d had when Matty came out, and the same one they had again, when Matty’s father asked about his, apparently, according to the man, obvious crush on Owain. He wanted to avoid that at all costs.

 

Not wanting to hold up the other witches and wizards, Matty watched as  his father stumbled through the secret doorway and onto the platform and he followed shortly after. His Dad shook his head, clutching Matty’s trunk until his knuckles turned white.

“Never get used to that…” he grumbles but offers Matty a smile when he gains his barings back. They had twenty minutes before he needed to board the Hogwarts express, they moved to wait by a small bench. This was where he and Owain would meet every year, this time he felt as though his heart would beat out of his chest from hoe nervous he felt. His dad checked his watch; Matty had enchanted it work in wizard places, he then placed a comforting hand on Matty’s shoulder.

 

“No Owain today?” his father questioned with a frown,

 

“Still twenty minutes yet dad.” he glanced at the watch himself, feeling as though the ticking noise was far too over barring.

 

“Did you two fall out?” his father asked, frown still in place.

 

“What no!” Matty shook his head, “What makes you think that?”

 

“You’ve been anxious all morning.”  

 

“I have anxiety dad! I’m anxious every morning.” Matty rolled his eyes.

 

“Oh! You know what i meant, more so than usual… you can tell me anything you know.”

 

Without meaning to, his father had made him guilty, he didn’t keep much from his dad but he wanted to talk to Owain first but he supposes he wouldn’t mind, plus with the train due in ten minutes, there was no time for that dreaded talk.

 

“We didn’t fight, we-we had a moment!” he rubbed the back of his neck,

 

“Moment?” his dad tried to hide a smile and a snicker.

 

“Kissed! Hugged! You know all that stuff.” Matty was blushing now.

 

“I’m glad darling… you could tell you two where closer than most friends.”  His Father smiled happily and Matty returned it and the two embraced in a loving hug.

 

While in the comfort of a parental embrace Matty was able to forget his anxiety for a short while until the train came screeching to a stop and there was still no sign of Owain. He told himself he’d find his friends and they’d know where Owain was. It’ll be fine. It will.

 

After waving goodbye to his father, he hobbled onto the train cursing himself for packing so heavily and found his way to the carriage with Jon, Kit and Lyanna.

 

They offered a Hello in unison, Jon opting to help slid his trunk over head before all four resumed sitting down. 

 

“No Jonesy?” Kit frowned, and Matty wiped his hands on his trousers again.

 

“What, you don’t know where he is either?” Matty allowed a bit of his worry to come out.

 

“I’m sure he’s just running late, or stuck in conversation with someone.” Lyanna placed a comforting hand on his knee, but otherwise seemed unconcerned with the lack of Owain.

 

“Owain, stuck in conversation? With others? Have you met him!” Kit scoffed, and Jon smacked his knee before offering Matty a smile.

 

“...Like Lyanna said he’s probably just Late, we’ll see him at the feast.”

 

Matty groaned, his head falling back and thudding against the seat,

 

“No you don’t get it! We-we had a moment, at the party!”

 

“A moment?” all three said in unison.

 

“You know, we talked and hugged, and kissed and sort of confessed our feelings.”

 

Kit put a hand over his heart and sighed turning to Jon, “Our boys are growing up.”

 

Jon returned by fake wiping tears, “They’ll be leaving the nest soon!”

 

Lyanna chuckled softly at the others antics,

 

“What they mean to say is that we’re all very proud of you both.” 

 

The two boys nodded and Matty felt the knot that was building up in his stomach slowly uncoil, and sigh of relief left his lips.

 

“Thanks guys, it’s just, you know, been up in my head about it, and well, he said he’d see me on Monday and we’d talk about it, but he’s not here.”

 

“It’s still Monday Matty, I'm sure you’ll see him again before the moon is out.” Jon comforted him.

 

Nodding, Matty let the others chatter between them, and lay his head against the window as the train pushed onwards.

 

 

Before he knew it the four of them were off the train and standing on the Hogsmeade platform waiting to board the carriages to the castle. He couldn’t help but look around for Owain, but since talking to his friends he felt less anxious about it, they'd tell him if Owain was regretting it, but they were fairly certain Owain liked him back. Before they were allowed onto the carriages Ministry officials searched them as they did when they first arrived in September, It didn’t help with his anxiety.

 

Caught up in his mind again, he hardly noticed how they were on their way the respective hogwarts houses tables, saying goodbye to Lyanna and with Jon’s warranting catching up to Sebastian as they made their way to Slytherin. Kit rolled his eyes at Jon’s antics and Matty allowed himself a small smile, the chatted amongst each other, but Owain’s absence was felt like a lost limb. Before he could dwell more on Owain, Dumblefore strode up to the podum to begin his welcoming speech 

 

“Very best of evenings to you all. Hope you had a splendid break, If you look at the house tokens you’ll see that Slytherin is far in the lead for the house cup! But there is still room for the other houses to over take them!”

 

Slytherin table was filled with cheers  but it was almost drowned out with the murmuring of other students, who rightfully, didn’t like Snape very much. Matty felt inclined to agree,and the ache for Owain grew, he always complained about Snape.

 

“As you know, each and every one of you were searched upon your arrival here tonight, while I have previously told you the story of Tom Riddle tonight I have a grave announcement I wish I didn't have to make,” Dumbledore continued, and the atmosphere soured as everyone anticipated what bad news about the other side would be told to them today.

 

“Owain and Rhiannon Jones, two of our star students, were the target of a death eater attack last night,” Matty’s ears were ringing, and he felt Jon grip his hand, shock evident on both his and Kit’s face but nothing could have prepared him for what Dumbledore said next.

 

“They failed to escape,” Dumbledore took a moment to let out baited breath, “and are confirmed to be dead, along with their grandfather.”

 

Not able to listen he ripped his hands from Jons grasp and ignored his and Kit’s pained pleas for him to stay. All eyes on him but for once in his anxious existence he didn’t care. He quite frankly lost all the fucks he ever had given for other people’s opinions the moment he found out Owain was dead.

 

He stormed out of the Great Hall, aiming to get back to his dorm as quickly as possible but before he reached the end of the hallway, he was caught off guard by being grabbed by another student, forcing him to stop. They were panting and Matty was about to get extremely angry with the other, but her panting allowed him to realise it was Daya from Gryffindor.

 

“M-Matty! Wait please.” Daya panted out. He remained silent wanting nothing more than to curl up in bed.

 

“Matty! It’s Owain!” She grabbed his arm, her eyes wide.

“He’s - Neither of them are dead,” she had a guilty look on her face, before turning and fleeing in the opposite direction. 

 

For the second time in the span of an hour Matty felt like the rug had been pulled from under his feet. Maybe it was grief talking but that one sentence was all he needed, his confused brain latching onto her words like a crutch. Not dead.

 

Not dead…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading, kudos and comments are appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoying this? Consider reading the original story - Hogwarts Amicita!


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